by Hannah Retallick
She hugs him. Real tight. The bunny who cared for her when she was born, brought by an auntie’s nervous hand and placed beside the sleeping baby.
She tickles his ears. Floppy, damp with tears, stained with dust from the floor he was dragged across. Mummy had never killed him in the washer, drowned his stuffing in the sink, or passed a wipe across his face.
She whispers in his ear. He understands non-words – always did and always will. Black beady eyes, reflecting the naked bulb. He’s crying, Mummy. I’m sorry, my love, I must.
She strokes his head. Don’t cry, Floppy, please don’t cry, you’re making me cry. Jessica, come on now.
She loses her hold. No, Mummy, no. My love, you’ll get him back when I’m done – I promise he’ll be okay. Promise. Now, wash your hands, my love, wash your hands.
About the author
Hannah Retallick is a twenty-six-year-old from Anglesey, North Wales. She was home educated and then studied with the Open University, graduating with a First-class honours degree, BA in Humanities with Creative Writing and Music, and is studying for an MA in Creative Writing. She was shortlisted in the Writing Awards at the Scottish Mental Health Arts Festival 2019, the Cambridge Short Story Prize, the Henshaw Short Story Competition June 2019, and the Bedford International Writing Competition 2019. https://ihaveanideablog.wordpress.com/